“WHAT?” Lazola said.
I’d had to tap her shoulder like crazy to get her to pull over. Now her visor was flipped up, and she was glaring at me like I was insane. I could tell, even in the dim light from the moon, she was annoyed. But I was too happy! happy! happy! to care.
“I want to drive,” I said.
Lazola shook her big helmeted head. “Uh-uh. No way. I’m already taking enough risks.”
“Come on, pleeeeeeeease!” I gave her my pouty face. Lazola can never resist my pouty face. Don’t judge. You haven’t seen it. I do an EPIC pouty face. Only time it doesn’t get me anywhere is when my parents are blankety-blank-bleep-bleep drunk.
Ja, so I did the pouty face and Lazola sighed. “Fine, but I’m taking you to a quieter road.”
I beamed. “Thank you!”
And as she drove us to a new spot, I started going over my head how you work all the controls. Not like I haven’t tried her scooter a few times. But motorcycles are a bit trickier:
- Two hands on the handlebars – those do the steering (duh).
- Right handgrip works the throttle. Ja, you know, how much juice to give the engine so you can vrooooooooom.
- In front of the right-hand grip is the front brake lever. That’s for stopping. But you need to use that with the rear brake too…
- Rear brake lever is operated with the right foot. (Ja, you got to use your hand and foot together. Do keep up.)
- Clutch is operated with the left handlebar. (Please tell me I don’t have to explain the clutch? Fine. Clutch helps you change gears. First gear is the most powerful, but is when you are going the slowest and blah blah blah – look it up on the internet.)
- Which leaves the left foot shifting the gears. (It’s like the stick thing you see in cars, got it? But this is your foot doing it. So basically, opposite to a car, where in a car, your left foot works the clutch and your left hand shifts the stick, unless you are in the United States where they drive on the other side of the road––no, I don’t know why they do that––and then they usually use automatics which change gears on their own and…again, just use the internet if you are confused. I’ve got a story to tell, hey?)
All of these things I practice in my room all the time. I’ve got some old parts stashed under my bed. Ja, so it isn’t a motorcycle. But I’ve got the handlebars and some grips, and then I just move my feet and use my imagination. Just like they tell you at church – you work with what God gives you, and that’s what I do.
Tell us: Do you think you’d be friends with somebody like Ayesha?